


Coffee Shops and Dirty Dancing

by Numanum



Series: Answered Saphael Prompts <3!!! [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), Shadowhunters (TV) RPF, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - This World Inverted (Shadowhunters TV), Coffee Shops, Dirty Dancing, First Kiss, First Meetings, Human Raphael, Human Simon, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sleepovers, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 17:47:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19932016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Numanum/pseuds/Numanum
Summary: The stranger doesn’t look up as he continues to stare into his cup without drinking any and Simon continues to stare at him expectantly. What can he say, the guy is pretty. He looks, as cliche as it sounds, like an angel; he has a beautifully warm skin tone, a soft face with a strong jaw, big, dark brown eyes, plush looking lips, amazing eyebrows, and curls that most women would be jealous of. Heck, Simon is jealous of them and he doesn’t even want curls. His scouting of their surroundings pays off when he sees the writing on the stranger's cup. "Raphael,” Simon breathes, beaming up at him. The stranger, now known as Raphael, looks up sharply at his name. Simon points to the name on his coffee cup with cheeky innocence and gets a sour look in response. “I assumed you couldn’t read,” Raphael says snottily, looking away as his cheeks begin to burn a lovely shade of red. “And I assumed angels were nicer,” Simon replies, enjoying the look on his companions face.





	Coffee Shops and Dirty Dancing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaaaaarooooo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaaaaarooooo/gifts).



> I hope you like it, and if you don't I'm really sorry!  
> Also, Isabelle and Simon were never together in this, and I'm sorry if you would have preferred that.

Clary has been acting weird recently, and Simon doesn’t get it. He tries to, he really does try to understand what's happening, why she's upset, but he just _doesn't get it._

Sure, the party is a big deal, but literally all she has to do is attend it. It's not hard to show up on time and drink with your boyfriend before sneaking off to go make-out in the corner. Not that Simon would know anything about it. She wasn’t even acting weird until two hours ago! Before that, she was exited to dress up and see Jace, and exited to see all of her friends. It all just seems so random to Simon. Maybe he missed something that had happened between her and Jace? He’s more than a little concerned for his friend, which only gets worse when she completely brushes him off in favor of disappearing into the crowd.

Simon’s eyes sting after she dismisses him, and he convinces himself that it’s just the way that the glitter catches the lights in the room that hurts his eyes enough to make them sting. Despite her avoiding him, Simon keeps one eye on or out for his friend because, _sue him_ , he cares about what happens to her. What if it’s a drug problem? What if she needs his help with something? So, despite her being the main reason he was here and her leaving him anyway, he stays at the party and stays miserably alone.

It could have been worse; some TV show rip-off demon could be eating the guests.

At some point in the evening, after Clary had run off with some mystery guy (her drug dealer???) and Jace had gone storming after them, the party becomes too much. The lights, the glitter, the familiar faces dancing, it’s suddenly all too much for him to even breath the air. Simon doesn’t even realize he’s left the party (because of all of the glitter in his eyes, and probably tears) until he’s breathing in fresh air outside the building. Or, as fresh as you can get in New York. For a moment, he considers calming down and going back in. It isn’t like he wasn’t having fun (he wasn't), there were plenty of things to do; Isabelle is dancing with everyone who asks, so he could go to her, but honestly, he just wants to leave.

So he does.

He leaves, feeling like a shitty friend, goes across the street to the coffee shop he’d seen before he got dragged into the party by a crazy eyed Clary and then abandoned, and sits down, feeling stupid and too dressed up for the laid-back atmosphere of the coffee shop. He feels like a sad drunk man who ended up at a Denny's at two o'clock in the morning. He still has glitter on his _everything,_ for fucks sake, and that stuff never comes out or goes away, _ever_. He isn't sure why Valentine wanted so much of it at the party, and Simon doesn't know him well enough to ask. It’s the art equivalent of herpes, he thinks, watching it spread across the table he’s at without any help from him. When he looks up, he sees a boy staring at him from the line with obvious disdain, dark eyes flickering from Simon's glittery form to the now-glittery table. Simon sheepishly looks back down at the glitter that’s already spreading around him like germs, sure that everyone can see the way it glimmers on the soft brown of the table. Of course when he looks like this, he's seen by someone who looks like a model- a very grouchy, judgmental, and irritable model.

After a few minutes of him sitting there, the same boy comes to stand next to Simon, waiting cooly for acknowledgement as he needlessly stirs his probably 'black-like-my-soul' coffee. The way he does it gives off the same impression as a super villain stroking their cat while they plot evilly. Simon stares at him, honestly lost for words, and he apparently takes that as an invitation to speak up from where he's standing nonchalantly at Simon's side. “You’re making a mess,” the boy tells him while huffing, staring at him with a grouchy expression like he expects Simon to whip out a dustpan and sweep the glitter away. If possible, he's suddenly even more mortified at his glittery, too dressed-up state than he was before.

“Oh, do you work here then?” Simon asks anxiously, and remembers as soon as it’s already left his mouth that he saw the guy buying a coffee, and _not_ behind the register. He cringes a little bit on the inside at his terrible social skills and redirects his gaze back to the table. It's silent for a bit, like the guy wanted to give Simon plenty of time to think over how stupid he is. “I don’t have to work here to be upset about the sudden _glitter disaster_ that’s plonked himself down to spread his chaos,” the guy finally replies, raising both eyebrows high enough that Simon feels stupid for even _existing,_ let alone saying anything. Simon raises his hands placatingly as a reflex, and they both watch as more glitter floats to the ground with the movement. The guy stares at him in disbelief, like he didn’t know that somebody could _be_ this stupid. To be honest, Simon feels kinda stupid with the way that the guy looks at him as if he's especially challenged. “Dios mío, deja de _moverte,_ idiota!” he exclaims, quickly setting his cup down and grabbing Simon’s shoulders to supposedly keep him still. Or to murder him. If he’s being honest, the interaction could go either way at this point. Simon doesn't know enough Spanish to tell. The guy’s pretty enough that Simon wouldn’t mind dying right now, what with the way he’s already annoyed him and it would really be an act of mercy at this point.

The scent of caramel wafts from the cup, and Simon realizes that, earlier when he was waiting for Simon to acknowledge him, the guy was stirring the whip cream into the drink until it melted like a sociopathic heathen. Somehow, that doesn't make him want to rip his hair out, just because the guy is really cute and Simon has definitely done worse during this conversation than the guy has ever done in his _life_.

“I only understood, like, two words of that,” Simon admits, looking away from the cup and into unimpressed dark brown eyes. “Also, who’s the guy that just grabbed the glitter monster?” he awkwardly teases, loving the annoyed look on the young man’s face as he winces in disgust while looking at his now permanently glittery hands. He looks so offended at the bits of reflective plastic that Simon can’t help but choke out a laugh, not stopping even when the guy stares at him incredulously while he wipes his hands on his pants. Simon stares at the action and raises his eyebrows in a goofy parody of what the other guy had done earlier, because he's already too far in this to stop making an ass of himself. He looks at the guy’s face, his glittery hands, and his now glittery pants repeatedly. The glitter doesn’t even look bad against the dark fabric; it calls attention to his, admittedly _wonderful_ , legs.

His companion doesn’t seem to find it as funny, looking at Simon and everything that the glitter has infected with clear contempt for the shimmery pieces of plastic. “Tienes suerte de ser lindo, chico brillante,” he grumbles, vainly attempting to brush the glitter off of himself. Simon smiles at him, “aw, you think I’m brilliant!” he quips, hoping that somebody stops him before he keeps making a fool of himself in front of this pretty stranger.

“That is not what that means, _idiota_ ,” he deadpans, not even bothering to look up at Simon as he continues rubbing even more glitter onto himself. Simon notices that the tips of his ears are red out of what could be rage, and he changes tactics. “If you’re so concerned about making a mess, how about we sit together. It’ll help to keep the glitter contained?” Simon offers, wanting to kick himself as soon as it's left his mouth. He's smiling in a way that he hopes looks charming, but he knows it just looks really weird. From the look he gets, it doesn't look anything close to charming, or even nice. The stranger slowly nods, seeing the logic in the idea but not trusting him, and then scowls at Simon’s delighted expression. “ _Dios_ , I hate you.” He pulls out the chair across from Simon anyway, and drops himself into it like his close contact with Simon’s stupidity has drained him. His light brown hand almost matches the brown of the tabletop, Simon notices, as he retrieves his cup from next to Simon’s elbow.

“I’m Simon,” he introduces himself with a friendly smile, watching as the stranger stares moodily into his cup.

“Congratulations.”

"Thanks."

The stranger doesn’t look up as he continues to stare into his cup without drinking any and Simon continues to stare at him expectantly. What can he say, the guy is pretty. He looks, as cliche as it sounds, like an angel; he has a beautifully warm skin tone, a soft face with a strong jaw, big, dark brown eyes, plush looking lips, amazing eyebrows, and curls that most women would be jealous of. Heck, _Simon_ is jealous of them and he doesn’t even _want_ curls. His scouting of their surroundings pays off when he sees the writing on the stranger's cup. _“Raphael,_ ” Simon breathes, beaming at him from across the table. The stranger, now known as Raphael, looks up sharply at his name. Simon points to the name on his coffee cup with cheeky innocence and gets a sour look in response. “I assumed you couldn’t read,” Raphael says snottily, looking away as his cheeks begin to burn a lovely shade of red. “And I assumed angels were _nicer_ ,” Simon replies, enjoying the look on his companions face.

“ _Dice el ángel mismo_ ,” he mutters scathingly. Simon kicks himself for dropping Spanish in high school, but soothes himself by looking around the shop. It’s probably the glitter that’s somehow spread to his hair that is causing Simon’s eyes keep being drawn to Raphael. Or that's what he's going to tell himself, at least. Alec would probably call him a useless gay right now, despite being one himself. Simon saw the way he looked at Clary's probably-a-drug-dealer friend.

He doesn’t get up to order a drink, and Raphael doesn’t offer to share, so Simon just sits there quietly, with his scornful and still a little red companion across from him, and appreciates the comfortable silence of the shop. When Raphael finishes his coffee, he stares at it with growing disbelief and anger on his face. “There’s a fucking piece of glitter in my _coffee_ , Simon.” He sounds like he’s questioning his life choices, and Simon throws his head back and cackles, breaking the silence of the mostly empty shop. "It's your sparkling personality!" he coos, and it feels more flirty that it should but he can't take it back. Raphael doesn't seem to mind. He stares at Simon with a small, honest smile, before catching himself and scowling as he flicks his straw at him in retaliation. 

They descend once more into a more companionable silence after that, where Raphael plays with his empty cup and Simon taps his fingers on the table, enjoying the annoyed twitches that Raphael’s eyebrows do in response to the noise. He knows he has to go back to the party eventually; he's not in love with Clary any more, but he still wants to be around her, and she looked like she wasn't doing so great earlier. The only problem is that Simon would be alone again, and hs quiete likes Raphael's faux grumpy company. The idea is in his head and out of his mouth before he can take it back:

“Want to become a 'glitter disaster' too?” Simon offers, breaking the silence and glancing away from Raphael’s face as the other seems to consider his offer. “I don’t see why I should,” Raphael begins, and Simon’s heart sinks a little bit at the idea of going back to the party alone, “but I suppose the state of my sweater couldn’t get any worse.” It takes a few seconds for Simon to realize that Raphael agreed to come with him, and when he looks up at him Raphael looks nervous, like he’s doing something wrong by agreeing; like he thinks Simon was just trying to be _polite_. It’s cute, and Simon doesn’t tell him that yes, the state of his fancy looking clothes could be so much worse. Instead, he smiles brightly, resists the urge to grab the other’s hand, and gets up from the glittery table while he motions for Raphael to follow. It feels a lot like the Aladdin scene where they sing about 'A Whole New World' as he speeds out of the coffee shop with Raphael behind him.

Raphael is talking grouchily about the absolute mess of glitter that is never coming out of those chairs and that table, filling the silence around him with insults, most of which have to do with Simon and his glittery self. By the time that they’ve walked the short distance back to the party, Simon is breathless from nerves and from laughing at Raphael’s antics. Raphael is smiling slightly and laughing too; it’s a soft, breathy laugh, and Simon loves that he’s the one who caused it. They’re let into the party as soon as the bouncers realize that it’s Simon and a friend (they give Simon knowing looks that he pretends not to see), and Raphael immediately gets a face full of white glitter from somebody who quickly scurries off, shouting apologies and things that sound like "wrong person!". The glitter shines on him. It makes his hair look like a galaxy full of stars, and the small pieces of plastic have no right to settle on his cheekbones in the parody of white freckles that make Simon want to do something he shouldn’t. Raphael isn’t nearly as caught up by the glitter on him as Simon is, and he’s still looking around angrily, seemingly oblivious to the way that every movement changes the way that he glimmers.

“You’re pretty,” Simon whispers, and the movement of his lips catches Raphael’s attention. He obviously doesn’t understand what was said over the bass filled music, just cocks his head questioningly at Simon, who panics and just gestures towards the dance floor with a chaotic flapping of his limbs. It was a panicked reaction, because Simon would never suggest dancing, due to the fact that he _can't dance_. The second that Raphael nods, Simon smiles nervously and grabs for his hand. As soon as he takes a few steps, somebody he knows he should care about is there with drinks for him and Raphael, which they accept because, hey, liquid courage, and Simon tries not to bite her head off for the way she almost leers at Raphael. He feels better when he sees the glare directed at the girl from Raphael, who shakes their still joined hands like it should _mean something_ to her. And to Simon, it _does_ mean something.

Quickly, he pulls his companion closer by the hand and leads him towards the dance floor. Raphael is on the floor sooner due to Simon's hesitation, but he doesn't seem to mind. Simon can't bring himself to mind either as he watches him. Apparently, he severely underestimated Raphael’s dancing, despite never even thinking about it. That’s the only way that Simon can explain the absolute shock that he feels on his face, his jaw dropping and his eyes widening as he takes him in.

When Raphael drinks coffee, he ruins it by stirring the whip cream into it.

When Raphael dances, he lights up the dance floor with his hips.

He’s drawing everyone’s eye, male and female, while he rolls his entire body to the beat in a way that indicates he's good and he knows it, but he’s just looking at Simon with this bitchy, unimpressed look on his face, obviously expecting to be _joined_ on the dance floor at some point tonight. Simon doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, because he can’t _compete_ with that. Gone is the boy he thought looked so mean in the quiet coffee shop- well, not _gone_ gone. He mouths it, his _‘I can’t compete with that’_ , to Raphael, who rolls his eyes irritably, stops waving his hips, and yanks Simon over to him anyway. Apparently, he doesn't care. Raphael settles with his back to Simon’s chest and places Simon’s hands on his hips as he begins to sway them again, seemingly content as he continues to dance distractingly close. His dancing is dirty, but not overtly so; it was a lot of circles drawn by hips and feather-light touches to Simon's hands where they rested on his hips, mixed in with the occasional reach back to grip Simon's shoulder. Raphael's head is currently thrown back, the white glitter caught in his eyelashes draws Simon's attention to them where they rest lightly on Raphael's cheekbones.

Another circle of Raphael's hips has Simon gripping his hips tight enough to make Raphael's eyes flutter open to look at him briefly. It's obvious that the drink has kicked in with the way that his parted lips huff out with a breath as Simon's (slightly drunk) fingers rub circles into his hipbones, having gotten under Raphael's fancy sweater without either of them noticing. The smaller man doesn't seem to mind too much, too busy moving to the beat and dragging his hips against Simon's. He really didn't see this coming, and he's pretty sure that his surprise just adds to the wow factor. Raphael, the grinch, can dance.

It isn’t until the bass drops and everybody else starts grinding on their partners that Simon looks away from the long stretch of caramel skin that is Raphael’s neck, needing something to focus on before he makes everything extremelt awkward. Just because Raphael dances like that, doesn't mean that he's interested in Simon. He's probably more interested in showing off and making everyone else feel like they can't dance. It's a power move, and it's _working_. When he does finally manage to look away, he makes eye contact with Isabelle, who winks at him and shoots him a thumbs up. He smiles back at her nervously, pulling his dancing companion tighter to him, which seems to encourage him. Said dancing companion turns around in his arms, looping his own arms around Simon’s neck and staring at him, suddenly looking nervous again. That facial expression doesn't match with the way that he's basically riding Simon's thigh, but he doesn't mention it for fear that it would make Raphael stop. He directs his smile down to the shorter, man, who seems to relax a little bit and tries to go back to scowling while looking like a sexy dancing _God_. Simon is beginning to think that it’s just his face. If he’s being completely honest, it’s a nice face. It has perfect, parted lips that have flecks of glitter attached to them, making them shine.

Simon doesn’t even realize that he’s kissing Raphael until he feels the man in question jerk in the loop of his arms. He quickly breaks it and looks at Raphael, an apology already halfway out of his mouth, before he sees the unimpressed look on his face. Clearly, no apology is necessary. Raphael slams their mouths back together with a force that rivals a car crash, and Simon is sucked into it until nothing around him matters. Songs begin and end around them, and people bump into them, but nothing outside of Raphael and the warmth he provides in the already too hot room breaks past Simon's awareness.

By the time that the party is winding down, Clary has seemingly gone back to normal (sucking Jace's face off while he does the same to her), and her supposed drug dealer (Simon is still suspicious) is being aggressively hit on by a sober-but-ever-so-confident Alec. It’s amusing to watch the guy, Magnus apparently, try to respond to all of the flirtations sent his way without making an absolute fool of himself. He laughs at the poor guy until Raphael tells him that's what he was like in the coffee shop. "I wasn't even hitting on you!" Simon protests drunkenly, but is shut down by Raphael's drunk-but-unimpressed look, which is really just a softer version of his unimpressed look. "You had the awkwardness of Magnus and the expression on the other one's face, Simon, do not lie to me," is Raphael's huffy reply. He pauses, as if considering something, "but you were cute," he finishes. Simon kisses him again, Raphael hums into it happily.

Then the party is officially over,and they have to leave. 

Simon and Raphael are so drunk off of Bloody Marys and each other that they can do little more than slowly stumble back to Simon’s apartment, which is apparently much closer than Raphael's, but not as nice, which Raphael points out to him meanly. Simon's poor (he really isn't, just too lazy to move). All of the merciless teasing about his shitty lobby of his shitty apartment building is forgotten the moment that they step on the elevator. Raphael almost falls over when the elevator starts moving, and he keeps glancing down at the floor until it stops with a jerk that almost sends him to the floor again. Raphael doesn't even mention anything sexual, and Simon doesn't try anything. Instead, they climb into his bed and cuddle on while watching Star Wars because Raphael hasn't seen any of them before and Simon intends to correct that immediately. They’re both ridiculously happy, giggling at all of the wrong moments in the movie. When Raphael points out how all of the clone troopers should be fired because "they haven't hit anything, even _I_ could do better", Simon loses it and they make fun of the characters for the rest of the movie.

They fall asleep with Raphael curled up to Simon like a cat and Simon pulling his bed-buddy as close as physically possible without merging into one person. And it's... nice. It's even nicer when Simon wakes up to Raphael still in his bed and curled up to him. Some fear of Raphael leaving that he didn't even know he had is gone, and Simon snuggled deeper into his blankets and pulls him closer.

**Author's Note:**

> Your kudos and commesnts fuel me! Send me a prompt!
> 
> Translations!!!  
> Dios mío, deja de moverte, idiota- Oh, my God, stop moving you idiot
> 
> Tienes suerte de ser lindo, chico brillante- You're lucky you're cute, sparkly boy
> 
> Idiota- Idiot
> 
> Dios- God
> 
> Dice el ángel mismo- Says the angel itself


End file.
